Recently, I came across the story of Han Xiu, a Chinese-American writer, in the Chinese media. Her tenacity, insightful wisdom, and clear understanding of the essence of the Chinese Communist Party are truly admirable. This reminded me of a mysterious figure with similarities to Han Xiu, whom I refer to as the “quirky old man who never turns red.” His collection of lost stories and unique insights that defy common knowledge are both rare and precious.
In a serene and elegant park in a small ancient town, one can often see an elderly man sitting on a bench next to a lush bamboo grove. He has a square face, dark complexion, and a slightly chubby body, giving off a deep and dignified aura. He rarely speaks because he holds high standards for those he engages with, only sharing his thoughts with those who meet his criteria. As a result, people carry a mysterious sense of awe towards him.
In front of the bench where he sits is a soapberry tree, surrounded by a circle of stone slabs for people to sit on. This spot is considered the prime location in the park, often occupied by “Mao fans” who hang banners, broadcast speeches, and extol Mao Zedong’s supposed great achievements and his “simple and arduous” lifestyle. One day, a Mao fan remarked, “Chairman Mao, as a national leader, would mend his torn clothes and wear them again. Which other leader in history would do such a thing? Chairman Mao is truly great!” I responded, “But that patch is not just any patch. It was fixed by the only national clothing repairman in Shanghai, matching the original fabric pattern, costing a substantial amount and requiring a special plane to transport it from Beijing to Shanghai and back, totaling much more than the cost of buying ten new outfits.” The person accused me of spreading rumors and demanded evidence. I challenged back, “You claim I’m spreading rumors, so the burden of proof lies with you to prove that my words are false.” He was left speechless. The mysterious old man observed this exchange keenly. Later, I gave a speech on issues like the Bifu Sword Incident and the “New China,” earning the praise of non-Mao fans. I noticed the mysterious old man also giving me a thumbs up.
One day, as I passed by him, he called me over to sit and chat. I settled on his right side. Pointing at the group of people below the soapberry tree, he remarked, “These people have no brains. Whatever the Communist Party says, they believe. If the Party says eggs are square, they will parrot it; if the Party claims coal balls are white, they will echo it.” I explained, “Decades of red propaganda have brainwashed them, dyeing their minds red. Their thoughts are not independently formed from objective facts but derived from Communist Party materials like books, newspapers, broadcasts, and television. For instance, the recent discussion on corruption in the Qing Dynasty officials’ ranks doesn’t reflect the actual historical context.” I was surprised and asked for more details, to which he explained the true meaning behind the saying. He discovered the hidden meaning because his grandfather served as the accountant for the Qing Dynasty’s government office. His revelation turned the Party’s intent on its head, shifting it from condemning the feudal system’s corruption to praising the clean integrity of Qing officials. Impressed by this unique perspective, I acknowledged, “A single conversation with you is worth years of study. Such knowledge is truly invaluable and can only be obtained from you.”
The following afternoon, eager to absorb more of the old man’s insights, I visited the park only to witness a scene where someone inquired about a change in behavior towards him after wearing a police uniform. The old man wittily responded, unveiling the ironic truth behind the situation. I asked about his blunt remarks and if he feared offending the individual. He explained the importance of confronting certain people with harsh truths to instill a sense of shame, righteousness, and awareness in them.
He then recounted a touching story of a police chief named Qiao from the pre-1949 Nationalist era in the ancient town. Qiao was known for his integrity, kindness, aversion to evil, and empathy for the poor. He diligently handled cases of theft and scams, often providing aid to victims from his own meager salary when justice couldn’t be served. Despite his benevolence, he was framed by criminals he had punished, falsely accused of extortion, and faced execution under the Communist Party’s rule. Thanks to the pleas of the local shop owners he had helped in the past, Qiao narrowly escaped his fate. This comparison between a pre-1949 police chief and a contemporary Communist Party police chief led us to reflect on the virtues and vices of different eras.
With his treasured stories shared, we chuckled at the Mao fans’ loudspeaker promoting the “New China” before bidding each other a temporary farewell with a promise to meet again.
(To be continued)